


Waking Up

by JAMES_BUCHANON_BARNES_YES



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 04:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAMES_BUCHANON_BARNES_YES/pseuds/JAMES_BUCHANON_BARNES_YES
Summary: Steve has been pretty much sleepwalking since Bucky was put in that cryo tank. He wasn't truly living.





	Waking Up

Bucky. Bucky who had protected him from bullies. Bucky who had dragged him out of his apartment when he was being antisocial. Bucky who gave him hope. Bucky who always had his back. Bucky who broke his heart without meaning to. Bucky who cared too much about everyone but himself. Beautiful, wonderful, kind, compassionate Bucky. Bucky was too good, and he couldn’t even see it. How could he not see it? It was always there. Bucky. Bucky was good.

Crap. He was doing it again. Steve awakened from his thoughts to find that, once again, he’d wandered over to Bucky’s cryo tank and had been sitting there for hours. He sighed, looking down at his sketchbook. This time he’d simply drawn Bucky with flowers in his hair. Bucky would have murdered him if he knew he’d drawn such a monstrosity, but Steve honestly thought it looked kind’ve pretty. He looked up at Bucky: peacefully asleep as he had been for weeks. Steve couldn’t stand it. He’d finally gotten his best friend back, only to lose him. Again.

No wonder everyone was worried about him. He spent hours just sitting in front of the sleeping Bucky, not responding when people spoke to him. The time of day didn’t matter, whether it be one in the morning or six at night, Steve always seemed to find himself drawn to Bucky. He frowned, the creases in his forehead deepening, as he closed his sketchbook and stood up. He took one more long look at Bucky before stepping out of the room. He should probably eat some food. Who knew how long he’d been sitting there. He certainly didn’t.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Holy shit! He’d been sitting there for fourteen hours this time. It was now four in the morning. He debated going and getting food, but Clint was probably up, and he didn’t feel like answering any questions right now. So, he just walked to his room and went to bed.

Ten hours later, Steve woke up again. He was dead tired, but he checked his alarm clock to find that it was two in the afternoon. There was a pit in his stomach. A never ending chasm of not having eaten in two days. Whoops. That would definitely go over well with Clint. Clint had made it his responsibility to try to keep Steve alive while he was in this haze. So far, it had been rather difficult.

When Steve entered the kitchen, he found Sam and Clint waiting for him with their arms crossed. “Look! He’s arisen from the dead!” Clint said, his sarcastic tone containing an edge to it that Steve wasn’t used to.

“M’hungry.” Steve muttered in response as he put a couple slices of bread into the toaster and got out some jam. He put the jam on the counter and turned to look for a butterknife.

“Steve.” The tone of Sam’s voice made Steve look up. “This needs to stop. We’re worried about you, man. You sit in front of Bucky’s tank for half a day, you forget to eat for multiple days at a time, you don’t talk to people. Dude, face it: you’re falling apart faster than a hard shell taco.” Steve sighed, giving Sam and Clint his full (albeit exhausted) attention.

“We’ve decided that we need to do something to combat this issue.” Clint said, “It’s clear that the only possible solution will be to wake Bucky up from cryo. He’ll understand when he sees the state you’re in.” Clint emphasized by looking Steve up and down with concern. It was true that Steve did look terrible.

Steve didn’t respond. He wanted more than anything to wake Bucky up. He missed him every second of every day. But, he needed to respect Bucky’s choice. They hadn’t yet been able to figure out how to get HYDRA out of Bucky’s head. Until then, Steve would force himself to live without his best friend.

“Steve? Did you hear him? Are you even listening?” Sam snapped his hand three times in front of Steve’s face.

“We can’t wake Bucky up.” Steve whispered, suddenly finding it hard to bite back tears.

“Yes, we can. And we shall.” Clint said resolutely. Steve’s toast popped up. Nobody moved. Steve could feel the water building up at the bottoms of his eyes. He knew they could see it. He wanted nothing more than to have Bucky back right this very second, but he couldn’t. He had to respect Bucky’s choice. He didn’t want Clint and Sam to see him cry. He sprinted out of the room to hide somewhere even Clint couldn’t find him.

Steve sat, curled up in the bottom of a janitorial closet, curled up under some tarps and large pieces of cardboard. He’d had to use more things to hide himself now than he had when he’d been a teen hiding from bullies, but the concept he used still worked. Clint had even looked in the closet for him, but to no avail. He sat there, perfectly still, tears falling out of his face silently. He would not let anybody see Captain America crying and hiding like a child, nor sir. He would stay curled up there forever if need be.

He woke up to find himself still curled in a tight ball under the tarps and cardboard. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the closet, but his whole being ached. He could hear voices in the hallway calling his name, but he would not come out. Not now, not ever. He thought that maybe one of the voices he heard sounded like Bucky’s, but he couldn’t tell through the heavy door to the closet. Then, he saw little clippings of light and heard a creak as the door opened.

“...Steve?” A familiar voice asked. Was it Bucky’s? Damn the tarps for muffling the voice. He had no idea whose it was. The door closed again. “Steve?” The voice asked again, and Steve realized whoever had come in was still there. He listened intently, but could not for the life of him hear anyone moving or breathing or anything. “Steve, please. I checked under piles of disgusting stuff in every other closet in the whole place. I know where you always hide. I can hear you breathing. Please come out of there. Steve?” Bucky’s voice broke as he said Steve’s name. “Steve…” Bucky’s voice shook slightly with the effort of trying to hold back so much emotion. This simply broke Steve’s heart clear in two.

“Buck?” Was all he said.

“Yeah?” Bucky responded, confirming to Steve that it was him. Slowly, achingly, Steve began to ride from underneath the supplies. He couldn’t stand to his full height in the tiny closet, and when he looked at Bucky, neither could he. Oh, God. He was standing there, like a ghost. Right in front of Steve, there was Bucky.

“Bucky…” Steve gasped, rushing forward the six inches of space left in the closet to throw his arms around his best friend. Tears leaked out of his eyes despite himself, landing on Bucky’s shirt.

“Steve… don’t cry.” Bucky said, holding Steve tightly against him. Bucky smelled like soap. “Oh, God, Steve. You look terrible.” Concern was clearly written all over Bucky’s face, making Steve melt.

“No, I’m okay now. I’m okay now. Now that I have you I’m gonna be okay.” He was hysterical, talking at lightning speed, repeating everything he said over and over again. He was shaking rather violently.

“Whoa… Whoa… Steve… calm down…” Bucky’s voice was grounding, but not nearly so much as Bucky’s hands on Steve’s shoulders, holding him steady. Steve stayed silent, just staring at Bucky in awe.

“I…” Steve trailed off, about to say something, then thinking better of it.

“What?” Bucky knew him all too well.

“I just, I…” Steve’s words choked in his throat. He couldn’t say them. “I couldn’t…” Steve did not have the ability to get the words out of his mouth. Bucky moved his hands to the base of Steve’s neck to try to calm Steve down.

“You couldn’t what, Steve? It’s okay.” Bucky’s ragged voice was gentle and patient, as he had always been when Steve needed him to be.

“I couldn’t…” Steve tried again, this time his voice was a whisper. Bucky nodded, his hands resting on Steve’s jaw.

“You couldn’t…?” Bucky said, gentle as he held Steve’s face in his hands.

“I… couldn’t live without you, Bucky.” Steve finally whispered, barely audible even to Bucky. Something seemed to break loose within Bucky’s eyes. Bucky tipped his head up and brought Steve’s to him. Steve was shocked by the kiss. He didn’t know what to do. This was all he’d wanted for so long, but all he could do was stand there, shock still while the world spun around him. Bucky pulled back, creases formed between his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, Steve…” Bucky trailed off helplessly, “I know I shouldn’t have—” he stopped suddenly because Steve was looking at him strangely. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that he’d done the wrong thing. He looked at his feet in shame. He had made a huge mistake. How could he take back something like that?

Then Bucky felt Steve’s hand on his chin, tilting his face upward slightly, and kissing him. It was the first time they’d ever kissed each other in all their years of friendship. There had always been a feeling, but also a fear. This was the first time they kissed each other. It was long and slow, warming the two up from their hearts to their fingertips.

Steve had kissed people before, but never like this. He had his hands woven through Bucky’s messy shoulder length hair, and gave him repeated kisses, soft and gentle. They began to become more fervent kisses, heating him up in his core. This was Bucky. Bucky, who had been there with him all his life. Bucky who was always so full of raw emotion.

Something surged within Steve, and he placed his palms against Bucky’s chest, pushing him against the wall of the janitorial closet, feverishly holding him there as they kissed.

“Steve…” Bucky whispered against Steve’s lips. “I love you…” Steve pulled his head back, just looking at Bucky from a few inches away. Steve smiled that smile that always seemed to charm everyone but especially Bucky.

“I love you Bucky.” He said, before going back to kissing. It was as if he couldn’t stay away for more than a second. He finally had his best friend. He finally was doing what he’d always wanted to do. They were just kissing as if they’d always been like this. There was no rift between them, no divide. They were one and now they could finally show that to each other. Neither could have ever wished for anything more than that.


End file.
